George was proud of herself for keep a face devoid of expression, instead of running with the first tangent that came to her mind. There was quite a rant brewing in her brain. The reaper wisely kept it at a silent simmer.
"Hi."
George sat awkwardly with her hands in her lap. Her fingers fidgeted. There was a temptation to tell him what happened the last time he'd been in The City, sort of like confessing to your friend what they'd done while they'd been drinking too much the night before. It was only fair right? With George knowing what he was and Oz not knowing what she was?
But then there was the knowledge that Oz had bolted the last time he'd found out. Granted, he'd discovered her profession in a more first hand experience kind of way, but it wasn't an exodus she wanted to repeat.
"Thanks for giving me a ride. And sorta risking zombie-ness and everything..." And not asking too many questions about how George was able to wrangle the undead so effectively.